


Mud, Sand, & Time

by SophieGoose



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom
Genre: HLVRAI, M/M, benreyxgordan, frenrey, gordanfeetman, gordanxbenrey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29497959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieGoose/pseuds/SophieGoose
Summary: [HLVRAI] [Angst] [Headcanon-based] [Contains spoilers] Benrey and Gordon have been friends since childhood, but as the Science Team enters Xen, Benrey struggles with how things have gone lately. His best friend has been acting strange: pretending not to know him, antagonizing him, and generally pushing him further and further into sadness and anger. Can he, in all his eldritch power, mend this broken relationship, this shattered timeline, or will he be dragged down by his own rage and pain, taking the rest of those he cares about down with him? Will Gordon ever call him friend again, or is it over? And just who is to blame?
Relationships: Benrey & Gordon Freeman, Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Kudos: 14





	Mud, Sand, & Time

**Author's Note:**

> ((Hoo boy, this one is a bit experimental. So, this is inspired by Alieryn Art's animatic on youtube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uakD1i5R3a8), as well as my own headcanons regarding Benrey and Gordon/the HLVRAI storyline as whole. Basically, I headcanon that Gordon and Benrey were indeed friends prior to the series, but that the Resonance Cascade and Gordon travelling back in time and destroying his passport led to a break/reset in the timeline, erasing a good chunk of Gordan's memories, including those of their relationship. His actions from the beginning of the series onward anger and sadden Benrey, an extradimensional eldritch monstrosity/god from Xen who gives passports as tokens to mortals he favors, and who doesn't understand why Gordon has suddenly turned on him. He eventually snaps, leading to the final battle. This drabble is from Benrey's perspective, leading up to that final confrontation. Basically, it's one big tragedy caused by time shenanigans and the fatal flaws of a god driven by his emotions who fell in love with a mere mortal man. 
> 
> I was pretty experimental with this, and really tried to get into the headspace of a chaotic, capricious, shapeshifting god when writing Benrey, so hopefully it came out alright/mostly coherent. I might make a follow-up to this set after the finale, where Benrey realizes that he's messed up and that Gordon wasn't at fault, we'll see. Anyway, hope y'all enjoy!))

The scent of freshly cut grass, mingling with a faint whiff of hot asphalt, all of it heavy in the humid breeze.

The glare of the noontime sun, reflecting against the faded primary colors of the playground, refracting dully off the corroded iron of the monkeybars, glinting brightly off the plastic sheen of the slide.

The feeling of thick grains of sand, coarse and clumpy from years of communal use, contrasted by the dim coolness, the smooth stickiness of a nearby pool of mud, gunk clinging between fingers and slowing quick-moving hands in the muck.

And, of course, the sound of Gordon's laughter, his snarky remarks and half thought-out jokes, ringing in the summer air like so much song.

It was no Sweet Voice, yet it had soothed him.

It always had.

The memories, the sensations were as clear in Benrey's mind as if they had only just happened. As if it had all been a mere moment ago, as if all that sensory input was happening right now, and as if it were all about to happen again, all at once.

A being such as himself, disconnected yet intertwined with each fiber of the lower forms of reality he brought himself into, didn't have the luxury of forgetfulness. He had no way of knowing the slow sanding-down of memory with age, work, or preoccupation. Every moment laid out before him as clear and extant as the last, the one before that, and the quintillion moments ahead of both. The future was always a bit obscured to him, as even a creature as powerful as he couldn't scry what timeline of many would solidify, what possibility of many infinities would come to pass at any given moment...

But he was beginning to grow annoyed with the actions of those before him: they were pushing the current timeline, the outcome of the present moment towards the worst. Possible. Path.

_" ...yo. "_

"What's up?"

Benrey watched Gordon on the platform below, noting the panic on his face, the discomfort that wavered off of him. His fear bled out into the murk of the future like dripping poison, seeping into the carpet of reality like spilt soda or stray blood, Benrey sensing each sweet, rancid drop.

It was clear that the possibilities of the future, the choice of potential timelines were rapidly narrowing, and with each nanosecond that passed it drove Benrey further and further up the wall. Things were not looking good, even from his (borderline) divine perspective: regardless, he pushed through his discomfort and kept things civil.

As civil as he could, at least.

"What's up? You look a little-"

_"hey"_

"-you look kinda big there."

Benrey stood in silence for a moment: he did admit that it was, in fact, harder to control his form here, back at home. Usually, keeping his power contained and keeping his physical shape like that of a human was easy enough (he'd been doing it for years, after all). Being back here, however, where the energy he had been born into flowed and pulsed through his form like electricity (and given his current emotional state), he wasn't exactly focused enough to force himself back down to "normal."

And, perhaps, there was a part of him that enjoyed appearing a bit monstrous, if only to see Gordon a little freaked out a little.

Just a little.

He glowered down at him, watching the man's fear in quiet amusement, wondering if, perhaps, he should pick him up, just to see how he'd react. Maybe he'd kick and scream? That’d be funny to watch…  
Benrey's mind wandered, something dangerous for an entity such as he.

Thankfully, in the midst of all his planned and spontaneous mischief Benrey could still feel the walls of reality quickly closing in. It kept him in the moment, as best it could. The crushing weight, the great narrowing of possible futures closing off as, again and again, each nanosecond, Gordon and his compatriots pushed towards a timeline without reconciliation.

Without understanding.

Without him getting his way.

Better say something, then. Try to change it, yes?

_"I've been telling you to go back , I dunno man, you don't listen to me . . ."_

It was a weak appeal, and he knew it, but Benrey had never been good at begging: he wasn't the type to ask for things he wanted.

When he wanted something, he lifted his hand and it was his. When another creature rose their voice at him in a way that displeased him, it wasn't long until the azure hues of the Sweet Voice enveloped them, whisking away their malice, or, when he couldn't be bothered to play nice, a bullet or two through vital organs usually took care of the rest.

Sometimes he'd light them on fire, too. That was fun.

In the end, though, some beings were important to his desires for reality, for the flow of the timeline, this world, for him to just break, to kill and be rid of so easily.  
But not all of them.

One of the lucky few to have his favor was in front of him now, and, finishing his thought, he spoke in earnest to Gordon, hoping to reach him behind whatever haze had fallen over him as of late:

_". . . it kinda hurts."_

Surely, that had to spark something in him, right? Gordon was many things: loud, quick-tempered, opinionated, determined, a realist, so logical in the face of the illogical, bless his lil' heart...

But he wasn't cruel.

Gordon had never been cruel.

At least not to Benrey.

They had spent years in eachother's company, friends whose closeness was as constant as the stars in the sky, the assuredness of the sun rising over Earth's distant horizon each day, and falling back below it each night…so listening to Gordon ramble, scramble over himself for an explanation was, at the very least, a change of pace to the outright hostility he'd shown him as of late.

At least he wasn't insulting him, or bickering with him, or acting like he didn't know him: just what had gotten into him recently, anyway?  
"Why do you want us to go back? What is happening?"

Benrey had to chuckle at that question, if only in his head: humans were slow to react compared to him. A second to them was so much faster, and so much more full-bodied and consequential to him. He had all the time in the world to savor Gordon's confusion, his flabbergasted expression, it aging each moment like fine wine, a smorgasbord of twisted human emotion...  
But then came the next round of his words:

"...hold on."

_". . .huh?"_

"Hold on! I was fucking right!"

Benrey watched as Gordon took a step forward, the gesture so amusing from up here, looming above it all. Gordon was squeaking like a rat, scrunching up to threaten him, and Benrey was a prowling cat, giant and clawed and born to kill. It was cute, almost, seeing Gordon yell up at him.

So cute, in fact, that Benrey didn't entirely absorb the tone of Gordon's angry words at first:

"It's you, man!"

The words, though said in wrath, caught Benrey by surprise.

His grip, his vision, and his sight, trained on the paths of the future and the twisting of time ahead of him were now distracted, seeing only what was directly ahead of him, what had just transpired…

Gordon had acknowledged him, recognized him.

It was the most pleasant interaction they'd had in days.

Gordon had been acting so distant, so vicious and combative and dismissive towards him (not to mention the whole passport debacle, he wasn't about to get into that again), but now he was confronting him directly, not blowing him off or insulting him!

Ah, what a relief!

These last few days, the string of events and misfortunes leading up to all of this, all that time Benrey had spent thinking about Gordon. His friend had suddenly turned vicious and mocking, acting like he didn’t know him, lacking a passport and so unlike the man he'd known for years now…but now all of that had finally, FINALLY stopped!

Maybe all of this had just been one long prank that was finally over: oh, how they would laugh about this. Have a good chuckle about it, when all was said and done!

Benrey didn't hide his enthusiasm, his relief:

 _". . . yo, it's me!"_ he thundered, moving closer to the humans atop the floating rock, _"what's up?"_

What would he and Gordon get up to now, now that he seemed to have come back to his senses, understood him, given up the charade?

God, he could only congratulate Gordon on this whole prank, this whole mess: he'd genuinely scared him, pissed him off, gotten Benrey good after all this time, acting like he didn't know him and didn’t have his passport, scared the Hell out of him, honestl-

"Don't come any closer."

A shot, cold and cruel, through Benrey's heart.

To Gordon it had only been a second, a swift reaction on his part, but to Benrey, who could sense every fiber of reality bending and coiling around him, he could already feel that he had been w r o n g.

"Stay at that distance."

This couldn't be right, it couldn't be: Gordon wouldn't push him away, right? He'd never prank him this hard, he knew he got nervous about this kind of stuff. Pretending to not know him, to not have his passport, to annoy him and harass him and argue with him, that was all a bit far, sure, but pushing him away when he was clearly happy to see him, have him back, when he saw the relief on his face, looked right at him?

Benrey wasn’t insecure about many things, but this was one of them, and Gordon…Gordon w-wouldn’t…

He wouldn't do this to him.

The possibility that Benrey was missing something, lacking an important piece of information didn’t even cross his superhuman mind: a being like him couldn’t be duped so easily, anyway, not even by Gordon. Had he been wrong? Had it really been an imposter this whole time? Had he been tricked, led on by another creature of his caliber, wrecking the timeline and taking his best friend away, pretending to be him?

Or was this REALLY Gordon?

How could that be? Had he hit his head too hard somewhere, something like that? Benrey was good at breaking things, killing things, warping and mangling things, not fixing them: what if Gordon was broken beyond repair? Humans were so fragile, after all…

Or, worse, was Gordon rejecting him? Rejecting his friendship wholesale, after all these years?

Why would he push him away when it was clear that he was happy? That he was eager to reconnect with him, laugh off all the pain and fear he’d caused him? Gordon wouldn't hurt him without reason, wouldn’t ignore his obvious agony: he knew when to stop, right?

Something wasn't adding up, and Benrey had never been good at this kind of math to begin with.  
It was all so much to take in, and it hurt.

It hurt a lot.

And Benrey, if nothing else, was a being driven by his emotions, by his impulses, and reason was quickly losing out to pain.  
Quickly.

_"noooo, man. . . "_

Benrey drew in a short breath, despite needing no air, quickly continuing:

_". . . why you freakin' out?"_

This had to be a joke, right? Gordon would never make him feel this bad, this confused, he'd never-

Was he afraid of him, like this? Was he?!

Was his home, a form closer to his true form too much for him? Oh no, what had he done-

"Because this is INSANE!"

Benrey stewed on those words as Gordon chattered amongst the others, the looming shapeshifter trying to shut out the wafting aura of adrenaline, fear, and confusion on the air as they spoke. It all mixed together into a noxious, wavering mess, a mess that was getting to him, godly status or no.

He wouldn't do this to him.

He wouldn’t prank him this hard, then ignore his pain, no matter how dedicated to the joke he was.

He wouldn't.

Gordon knew better than anyone how easy it was, deep down, to hurt Benrey's capricious, ever-changing feelings...so why was he pushing him away, doing all of this?!

Gordon knew this was all a game, right? Gordon didn't think he'd actually HURT him, did he?  
Sure, Benrey had messed him up before, but he always fixed it in the end. No matter what horrors and suffering he went through, Benrey always fixed it…not perfectly, but still, it all ended up okay.

He'd only tried to have him killed and taken his hand this time because he'd thought he was an imposter at first, another entity such as himself that needed to be taught a lesson...and even if it had been Gordon it'd still be a funny game, wouldn't it? He'd done similar games before: remove a limb here or there, scramble his senses for a bit, mess with him just a tad and then fix it up, crank himself back in the timeline and set it all back to normal, to where he wanted it to be.  
Right as rain.

Had he pushed him too far, hurt him too much this time? He arranged things to get him to the mixology department and manipulated things to get him that sick gun arm...was that not a good enough apology? HE thought it was cooler than a regular hand, at least.

Gordon would love that sort of thing too, normally.

Even in the mind of a chaotic entity such as Benrey, all-seeing, reality-bending, and with years of Gordon in his life, it didn't line up. It was driving him crazy, making him angry, making him sad.

He tuned back into the conversation below, just in time to catch Gordon turning to him, asking him a question out of left field:

"Hey what's y-uh, what's you're, um, favorite-...what's you're PlayStation 3 gamer tag dotheycallitgamertagIdon'tknow...I don't know, I dunno man..."

Benrey looked down at him with a disdainful expression: really? That’s the best distraction he could come up with? This man has a PhD?

_"that's private information you shouldn't be asking that."_

"Uh, okay..."

More bickering below, only a fraction of a second long but infinitely long for the creature over their heads.

Again, the possibilities of the future were narrowing, and each action Benrey took narrowed them more and more, but at this point he was too frustrated, too angry and annoyed to pull back, to stop and truly realize what was going on. Maybe there had been an out a few seconds, a few minutes before, but now not even he, in his godly might, could see clearly the tangled mess, the chaos and conflict that had been created in the past few days.

He saw only Gordon, and the pain in his own heart. He knew what he wanted, and he never asked for things politely: he took them.

And what he wanted most now was a clear answer.

He knew exactly how to get one, consequences be damned.

_"wanna kiss?"_

A excruciatingly long moment of stunned silence.

"NO!"

Immediately, Gordon turned tail and ran, making Benrey's heart race: they'd played this game before, hadn't they?

Cat and mouse, him asking Gordon for a smooch, only for him to jokingly flee, Benrey chasing close behind; sometimes in his human form, and sometimes not. Always, it ended in victory for him, but every time the smooch would be a bluff, ending with something silly: a kiss on the hand, on top of Gordon's shoulder, a joking miss with Benrey cartoonishly stumbling past him, the works.

It was a joke, an inside joke, a little ritual between two long-time friends, dancing around a topic that neither dared to name, flirting so close to its edge, but never quite touching it, for fear of what might be.

"Love" was a never a word they had used with one another.

Although Benrey always wished that they had kissed.

Just once.

And that he had said that little four-lettered word to Gordon at least once.

At least once.

He watched as the human fled, leaping and landing several hundred feet away, Benrey excitedly smiling, seeing him play along, the shapeshifter giving Gordon a smidge of a head start before-

"You can stay there, you can stay there! Over there and-"

_"yo come back . . . "_

"No, NO!"

Again, another stab through the heart, another indication to Benrey that something was awry.  
Why was Gordon doing this?

The extradimensional entity was beginning to lose his patience, his temper.

_" man, we used to be great friends . . . "_

"We were never friends, we were NEVER friends!"

Again, two more shots through his heart, it taking everything in Benrey's power not to just collapse, let the human facade fall, melt away in rising pain and anger, lose his grip on any kind of relevant form.  
At least in that form none present could see the pain in his eyes.

Why was he hurting him like this?! Did he...did he really think they weren't friends, that they SHOULDN’T be friends after all this time?!

Was he rejecting him, after all these years? Over a couple days of chaos, adventure, some silly game this puny human was playing with his emotions?! Had he done something, SAID something to convince him otherwise?! Had it been something recent? Had Benrey insulted him, gone too far with a prank? He had to jog his memory, find some way to apologize, fast!

_" 'member those days . . . ? we-p l a y-where we played in the sand? and in the mud? we were playin' in the mud all the time . . . "_

His tone sounded neutral from the outside, but Gordon would know, he would KNOW that Benrey was pleading, waxing poetic about their earliest memories together, two younglings amongst the muck and dirt, just laughing and playing together...

_" . . . great friend."_

Gordon's expression, however, was only one of confusion and anger, the man sputtering:

"I don't think, I have-! You, you're forging these memories dude!"

Benrey didn't even let him finish: he was floating towards him, certain to break this charade.

Gordon, really? Pretending like he didn't have these memories, denying them? That was a low, LOW blow, and he KNEW it, he HAD to know it! Those times together were some of their most cherished memories. Was he...was he actually trying to hurt him, now? Actually make him suffer?

Benrey was losing his patience, but, dammit, he would try to fix this still, get Gordon to snap out of this vindictive streak. They’d work this out, they had to!

_"HUG?"_

"GAAUGH NOOOO!"

And there he went, running away again, each moment ticking by crawling further and further under Benrey's skin.

He wasn't used to this kind of pain, he had to admit: death was temporary for him, and he lacked much of the agony humans felt at such physical trauma, but emotional pain like this was unknown to him. It was sharp, jagged, hollow yet burning. It tasted bitter on his tongue and made his ears ring and heart rattle.

He hated it.

  
HE HATED IT.

Again, Gordon fled below, slithering around, ducking past pillars of floating rock, looking for someplace to hide: maybe he could try goading him a bit? See if he could exasperate him enough to give this up?

Please, god, just let him GIVE THIS UP!

_" I CAN SEE YOU WHEREVER YOU GO, FRIEND!!"_

Eh, why not add a little more salt into the wound?

_" I HAVE SCANS OF YOUR FEET AS WELL!"_

"I don't want you to have those!"

Again, fleeing, Benrey noting that anger and confusion had turned to fear from his human friend, he was quick to push him farther, his caution tossed to the wind: surely, Gordon would give up on hurting him if he just kept pushing him back, right? Show him that he was done playing around??  
Surely, Gordon would realize he was causing him distress, pain, anger, and stop, right, RIGHT?!

_"stop right here, mister gordon feetmannnn!"_

Juvenile? Yes, but so was most of Benrey's humor, honestly.

Benrey watched as Gordon lurched to his feet, staring up at him in panic and fear and, FINALLY, Benrey felt the air shift, a soft grin emerging across his face. The timeline was changing, pushing down a path, finally getting close to locking itself into place.

Finally, there would be some sort of resolution to this, a change, and they'd finally fall out of this dark timeline, away from this twisted game of Gordon's, and Benrey would be free of this pain, his confusion, all this nonsense, no longer worrying about the possibility of him losing his best friend, his beloved pal, his Gord-

Bullets.

Bullets dug into him, dribbling blood down the surface of his false, giant form.

Did they hurt? Yes, he supposed they did: at this scale, they only really burned for a second, digging into his skin like tiny shards of glass, stinging like gnat bites...

But he was indeed in agony.

Pain, writhing and unholy, rocked through Benrey like a mounting fire. It was pain few gods knew.

He'd suffered many "deaths" in his lifetime, all temporary dislodgings from the timeline before he could successfully squish himself back down into a human form, usually starting from the skeleton, then moving outwards into a more cohesive body.

This was different.

Several hours passed in a moment, then came back, then warped and tangled around him, portals opening and closing as he writhed internally, his enraged and pained psyche reaching out, tearing at time and space in sheer incredulity, sorrow, and desperation and yet...

The timeline didn't change.

He could feel it laid out before him: linear and unshakable, ending in a deep darkness even he could not fully scry.

It was over.

Fate was set in stone.

The darkest timeline had come to pass.

He was around, he guessed, for the next few hours: he moved through walls, loomed over Gordon and his friends as they fought some of Xen's less powerful residents, Benrey not even bothering to control his form, anymore.

Gordon had abandoned him.

Struck at him again and again, both at his body, at their bond, and at his heart.

It was over.

It was all over.

After years, their friendship had fallen apart.

Gordon had rejected him, attacked him, chosen his as an enemy.

It all made sense now, in his head: he'd abandoned his passport, taken him and the others on a wild goose chase, pretended not to know him to hurt him, antagonize him.

He didn't believe it, but the timeline was set. He could see it, sprawling out before him.

Benrey didn't remember everything he said or did whilst waiting for them, now locked into a singular timeline, one final string of events leading to the end.  
He rambled, acting strange, slurring his words as Gordon and the others finally arrived at his den, his birthplace, his home. He spewed out whatever words, whatever explanations came to mind, but he was no longer attempting to be human-like, to make sense, to make up. He was done with them. All of them.

Comraderie had been replaced with fear.

Happiness with pain.

Love with anger.

Benrey didn't bother appearing as human anymore, letting his form warp, melt, twist and contort, letting his internal agony show physically.

The timeline was set, it was just a straight shot now: him, Gordon, his friends, and the abyss.

No more uncertainty, no more escape from the consequences of not only his but the actions of others.  
He could have stepped back from it all, seen what had gone amiss, realized, perhaps that even his omniscient perspective was that of a flawed narrator, but he didn't CARE.  
Not anymore.

He saw only Gordon and him in the sand, in the mud, and hundreds of other places over so many years.

Every happy moment now made him bitter, the sting of their crystal-clear fidelity pushing him farther and farther away from rationality, from reason, from what he loved and wanted most in this world, or any other.

If Gordon no longer wanted him as a friend, FINE.

He would have him as an enemy, instead.


End file.
